


God's Dead (I said, "baby, that's all right with me")

by charleybradburies



Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Bad Decisions, Celebrities, Community: 1_million_words, F/M, Female Anti-Hero, Female-Centric, Ficathon, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Sorry, Married Couple, Murder, Narcissism, News Media, Newspapers, Not Canon Compliant, POV Female Character, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/pseuds/charleybradburies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>when is a monster not a monster? oh, when you love it.</i>
</p><p>for the Gods & Monsters ficathon on lj @ clockwork-hart1</p><p>Title from "Gods & Monsters" by Lana Del Rey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	God's Dead (I said, "baby, that's all right with me")

She’s washing up in their fourth victim’s summer house - and current resting place - when she spots the paper. The Tribune, to be more precise, sitting atop the toilet, held in place by a can of Febreze that’s already been quite obviously overused in the horridly small bathroom. It’s not exactly a reputable source, but then again, Gossip Girl never made one more annotated bibliography than required to. 

(On second thought, he probably had.)

“Serial Killer Suspicions: Our Suggested Candidates” reads the large header, with various C- and D-list celebrities profiled below...along with her and Chuck, oddly enough. The picture is flattering, though. 

Blair cackles, and dries her hands on an embroidered hand towel before scooting the Febreze aside and picking the paper up. 

“We’ve been told on separate occasions that both Bass and Waldorf are “monsters” with “little to no regard for others’ wellbeing,” with implications and unfortunate details that point to potentially pathological occurrences of, well, monstrous behavior, which is particularly disappointing from the sometimes admirable Waldorf.”

She rolls her eyes hard enough for them to hurt a little.

She’s definitely sure she’s a bitch, but she’s not sure about the word monster. Or rather, not sure about the _designation_ of the _title_ of monster. Monsters evoked thoughts of dark corners, of daft girls being sacrificed for no one’s good in horror movies to rabid, immoral men, of full moons that weren’t beautiful but were warnings, were cues to something supernatural to go absolutely bat shit crazy. And Blair, well, she’s not that kind of crazy. She’s not an actual vampire - and neither is Chuck. But if they were...well, they were together, weren’t they? Two halves of a powerful - if disturbed - whole.

So what if living large involved some corruption? It always _did._ This wannabe journalist had no right to pretend that Blair needed to be above that, just because she was a woman. She was allowed to be a femme fatale; she was allowed to be unapologetic and sharp regardless of whether people liked it or not. 

Maybe that’s what makes a woman a monster in people’s eyes. Not like they had any idea, any at all, poor things. What a story this would make someday: two lovers not quite on the run, with more money than even they might manage with soft hands, a shared penchant for danger and a disdain that united them in ways that their love never could. Cleverness that secured them years to spare before anyone actually connected the dots between them and the bodies - and even if it became a trail to someone, how could they ever take the two of them down? 

The answer, obviously, was that they wouldn’t. No one would. Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf were indestructible. Plenty of people had tried and failed before, and clearly, people were going to try and fail yet again.

Looks like she and Chuck were just going to have to keep showing them who was _really_ in charge here. 

Maybe she was just a bitch. Maybe she was just _really_ fucking full of herself. Maybe she was the Queen Bitch.

Maybe she _was_ a monster. 

But if she _was,_ then so was Chuck, and the point is moot; they’re love incarnate whether they’re toxic or not, and they’re monsters _together._


End file.
